The Bane of Annie's Gotham
by Jasmine Scarthing
Summary: The Joker has long since been locked up in Arkham. The streets are clean. Annie's dream finally came true. Right? Wrong. A young college graduate, Annie has a pretty confused life. Nothing could have prepared her for what would happen today. A one shot. Rated T for cursing.


_A/N: This is set ten years after 'Catgirl Begins'. It's basically a sneak peek into 'The Dark Feline Rises'._

* * *

**Annie's POV**

I walk out of the office, turn the key in the ignition and start Dad's beat-up old Honda. My parents say I have to earn my own money for a car.

I got a job yesterday at Wayne Enterprises. It sounds like a dream job. Bruce Wayne's company, meeting new people, you get the idea.

Well, it isn't.

In a nutshell, I do nothing but file papers, tell random strangers, "Hi, this is Annalia from Wayne Enterprises, how may I assist you?", and take bullshit from arrogant CEOs, which is unlike me in so many ways.

Basically, I hate my job. Even if I get to ogle Bruce, who most likely forgot that I exist.

As I maneuver the Honda through the clean streets of Gotham, I see my favorite restaurant, Harvey Dent Delights, right around the corner.

_I've_ got to _get_ _home_, I think.

But I'm so tired from work. And today's Tuesday. They always serve salmon with teriyaki sauce on Tuesdays.

I park in front of Harvey Dent Delights and get out, smoothing my white blouse and adjusting my black pencil skirt. I let the automated door open and walk inside.

"Hey, all! We would like to welcome you to weekly stage night!" a woman exclaims. "Anyone here can come up on stage and show her talents-or his-in thirty minutes!"

"Stage night? We're adults," I mutter, sliding into a seat next to Barbara Gordon, whom I recognize instantly.

"Maybe you should sing, Annie," says Barbara. She's calming down a cute redheaded baby with a look of pride on her face.

I smile at her. "Maybe. So you and John started a family, huh?" I say.

"Yes," she smiles back. "I'm so happy. I have a loving husband, children, a great job, and friends like you-what more could I want?" She clears her throat. "His name is Cyrus Blake." She gestures to the baby.

"Nice name," I say approvingly. "I have yet to get married, let alone start a family."

"I'm sure you'll find the one, Annie," says Barbara encouragingly.

"Thank you," I whisper. Suddenly, we hear the woman on stage announce that stage night is about to start, and that they need a volunteer.

"Do that song-and-dance routine you did before," Barb whispers.

I blush. "I haven't done that in years!"

"Do it. You're young and single-let loose," she says.

I sigh. "All right."

* * *

A minute later...

* * *

Bruce's POV

* * *

The not-so-young Prince of Gotham drives up to Harvey Dent Delights. He smiles and shakes his head. It's ironic how after Harvey had threatened to shoot a child, people are still building restaurants in his honor.

But Bruce knows that's his own doing by pinning the blame on himself for Dent's murder. Even so, he thinks there would be somebody smart enough to figure out what really happened.

Like Annie, for instance.

Of course, she had seen the whole thing unfold. No figuring necessary on her part.

But Bruce knows that someone as ambitious and headstrong as Annie could easily figure it out.

Bruce Wayne gets out of his Lamborghini and goes into the restaurant. He sits at a table. With his trademark white smile that melts the hearts of girls everywhere, including Annie, he orders a lasagna. He's hungry today.

Bruce is so busy eating that he almost doesn't notice the cheering.

Wait. Cheering?

He looks up to see...Annie tap dancing?!

What the?

He pinches himself.

No, this is not a dream.

His little Annie is all grown up and dancing on stage. And she's doing her signature number from eight years ago, when she was 14.

And she's singing "I'm Looking Through You" by the Beatles.

This is crazy.

Bruce watches her twirl around on stage. She's good. Really good.

Bruce is in a dancing mood today, so...why not?

Surprising everyone around him, the billionaire playboy gets up on stage and starts dancing right alongside Annie.

Annie stares at him, astonished.

* * *

**Annie's POV**

I just gape at Bruce, so surprised that I forget to dance.

How did he get here? As Selina would say, he's supposed to be a shut-in.

I'm happy to see him, but too amazed to do anything but stand there.

What the hell is this?

"Bruce Wayne! Bruce Wayne! Bruce Wayne!" The audience is cheering for him. It's as if I don't exist.

"Bruce?" I sputter. "How the crap did you get here?"

"Don't cuss, sing!" he whispers. I reluctantly sing "I'm Looking Through You" again.

As we keep going, I start to get in the moment. The stage always does that to me.

The exhilaration of seeing Bruce again and the joy of singing and dancing combine to make me tap my way into Bruce's arms. For a tango!

The rock music instantly changes to Spanish classical. At least I think it's classical.

I completely forget that Bruce has been dating Selina Kyle since I was fourteen, and that one does not want to mess with a jealous Selina.

From the looks of it, it looks like he's forgotten as well.

I'm so in the moment that I almost ignore the applause at the end. We grin and bow and make our way off the stage.

"Bruce, what...how did you get here? Why are you back?" I ask breathlessly.

"I live here, Annie," he grins in that way that makes me melt into a puddle.

"How do you still remember my name? How come reporters aren't following you everywhere? What is this crap?" I babble.

"Could I ever forget you?" he croons, and all I want to do is walk to him and burrow my head in his chest.

"To answer your question, I tried to hide from the reporters, and yes, I'm back," he says. "But don't get any ideas-Selina is still the love of my life." He smiles playfully, but the look in his eyes tells me he's only half-kidding.

I quickly push my jealous feelings down into the deep recesses of my heart and smile back. I'm not twelve anymore. Grown women don't blow up in jealousy in front of people.

But I sure as hell feel like blowing up in jealousy, even though I have no right to think that way about a man with a lover.

Suddenly, I hear a loud bang and glass shattering. It's a gunshot. I can tell.

Bruce grabs my arm and shoves me under a table. "Stay here," he whispers.

"Yeah, right," I whisper back, and follow him.

The two of us walk out to see something horrible.

Masked assassins are shooting people. Bloodied bodies litter the floor. People scream and clutch wounds soaking in crimson blood.

Right in the middle is a man with a mask on who doesn't seem to give a crap that innocent people are being killed. He's encouraging it, almost.

Yep. He must be the leader of these thugs.

I gasp. He gives me the creeps. I grasp Bruce's shoulders.

"Who is he?" I whisper, trying not to cry. Grown women never cry.

"Bane." Bruce's voice is hard. "Annie, this is too much for you. Go hide."

I am about to do what he says when Bane speaks.

"Good evening, citizens," he says to the horrified survivors. "Or must I say, pathetic excuses for citizens. Today you have witnessed a fraction of the cleansing we will carry out against the slimy vermin of Gotham City."

His voice sounds breathy and rough. I'm even more scared. I want to tell this bastard to stuff it, but I'm afraid of getting shot.

Bruce grabs my arm again, and the two of us take a secret exit.

I'm trembling and gasping, ready to bawl like a little girl. I cannot believe what I have just seen.

"What was that about?" Bruce yells. "I told you to stay there! But you had to follow me! Now look at you! You're traumatized!"

Something inside me breaks then. I bury my head in my hands and start to sob, hot tears running down my cheeks. I look like a complete idiot, but I don't care. This is too much.

"You'll never change, Annie," Bruce whispers. Then he puts his arm around me and pulls me against him. I weep like a child and burrow into him.

At last, I look up at him and apologize, and tell him that I hope Selina doesn't murder me. Bruce laughs and offers to drive me home. I give him the address of my apartment, and we're off.

"Annie," Bruce says as we cruise through Gotham, "you might think you're grown, but to me, you'll always be a little girl."

"Great compliment." I roll my eyes jokingly. "But seriously. I know."

He was right. I was still just a girl thrust into the world of women. Real women, not girls who dressed up as them.

We stop at my apartment. I grab my purse, get out and smile at him. I don't need to say anything. My eyes say everything.

I hope.


End file.
